


cut

by notthelasttime



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Haircuts, Recovery, tyra voice: fluff.. but make it melancholy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 16:05:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20585225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthelasttime/pseuds/notthelasttime
Summary: "It's getting long."Kyrie's fingers brushed his hair back, gently pushing it away from his forehead. She'd said it before, once in playful tones as teasing words. It was different now- she was different, hushed and subdued, but no less soft.Nero tilted his head, easier to see her where she stood over him, tips of her fingers on his scalp moving in an absentminded way. He watched her face clear, all dreaminess dropped and eyebrows raised in surprised when he suddenly said, "So cut it."





	cut

"It's getting long."

Kyrie's fingers brushed his hair back, gently pushing it away from his forehead. She'd said it before, once in playful tones as teasing words. It was different now- _she_ was different, hushed and subdued, but no less soft. For all that things changed, things stayed very much the same, and Kyrie would always be Kyrie.

Nero tilted his head, easier to see her where she stood over him, tips of her fingers on his scalp moving in an absentminded way. Kyrie was all warm honey; her eyes, her hair, her skin. He watched her face clear, all dreaminess dropped and eyebrows raised in surprised when he suddenly said, "So cut it."

* * *

She sat him down on the toilet in the bathroom, giving her some heigh and and an easier time getting to all of his head. The silver scissors in her fingers _sniped_ as she fidgeted with them, her silent fretting over making sure things would always be _just right_.

"You know I haven't done this before," Kyrie said again, standing stiff behind him, afraid to start and _snip, snip, snip_-ing those scissors. She wouldn't admit as much, never say it out loud, but Nero knew her better than he could claim to know himself.

"You said that already," he replied, voice touching on exasperation. That old default for him, to get testy and and snap words if he had to speak at all, so second nature to him it was like habit. Not something he meant to direct at Kyrie, but something he did time and time again. 

_Snip_.

"I shouldn't. Just wait for tomorrow and then-"

"Kyrie," he turned to look her head on, and snatched her hand before she could pull away. "Come on. I trust you."

And wasn't that the truth of it. He'd trust her with parts of him he couldn't give to anyone else, and sometimes he thought she didn't know just how much that consumed him. 

She took a breath, finally not looking like she was ready to run, and Kyrie said, "Okay."

* * *

His hair _was_ long. Longer than he realized, watching strands flutter down past his eyes, like snow falling onto the floor. Kyrie worked slow and steady, memorizing in that way. Always the perfectionist, she wanted to do it right. Nero could revel in the feel of her fingers on his scalp, how intimate it was, how hungry he was for her touch, while Kyrie didn't even notice, too focused on doing the job well. She worked back to front. He felt her eyes more than her hands, making his skin prickle while he listened to those scissors _snip_. And then she nudged him, had him spin his body around so she could get to work on the rest. 

He watched her then. Bottom lip trapped between her teeth, absently bitten in concentration. There were times, like now, when she didn't have her guard up and he could see right through her, when hidden things started shining through. The jagged edges there that Kyrie could keep smooth under prying eyes, tuck the melancholy away and pretending that everything was alright, and she did such a good job of it, even Nero would be fooled if it wasn't for the touch of sadness in her eyes.

There were things she didn't talk about. She didn't bring it up and Nero didn't ask, but it was like a missing tooth. His tongue kept going to poke at it, bothered by the gap. He didn't like that there were things she kept from him, but...

But. Who was he to talk when he'd done the same. 

Sometimes silence was easer.

"There," Kyrie said, a final brush with her fingers, from the top of his head down to his shoulders. She looked pleased enough with the finished product, easy smile touching the edge of her lips, and a comfort to Nero to see that it reached up through her eyes. 

He stood up and faced the mirror. Unforgiving lights washed his skin pale and for a second he was met with his reflection as a ghost, the shadow of a memory of someone else.

And then it was Nero, just Nero staring back at him. Maybe looking a little too tired and a little too thin, his jaw cut stark without hair to frame it. It would take some getting used to, no longer the Nero he was used to seeing.

But it felt right.

"What do you think?"

Kyrie stood behind him, head peeking over his shoulder in the mirror, now anxious to know if he approved. He turned to look at her- the real her and not the reflection, and before he could help himself, his arms were wrapping around her waist to pull her closer, to tuck his face into the crook of her neck and press a faint kiss there. 

He shivered when her arms came up around his neck, touching on bare skin, a vulnerability he wasn't yet used to having, and he whispered, "_Thanks_." 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been replaying all the old dmc games, and only juuust scratched the surface of 5 but I am [sweats] already stumbling over too many fic ideas
> 
> you can find me still kicking around on tumblr @notthelasttime, or on twitter at @nonethelasttime


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